


it's one of those kinda nights

by rimbauds



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Blowjob in a nightclub toilet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rimbauds/pseuds/rimbauds
Summary: Lights flash in the club, the mixture of colours hurting Max’s eyes.He’s standing in the corner, a drink in his hand, swaying in place as he observes the dancefloor, observes the crowd standing in the middle, moving, dancing, sweat glistening on their foreheads.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	it's one of those kinda nights

Lights flash in the club, the mixture of colours hurting Max’s eyes.

He’s standing in the corner, a drink in his hand, swaying in place as he observes the dancefloor, observes the crowd standing in the middle, moving, _dancing,_ sweat glistening on their foreheads.

He sips on his drink, closes his eyes before opening them again.

A new figure stands on the dancefloor.

Max’s posture stiffens as recognition hits him.

Messy dark hair.

Designer clothes.

_Bandanna._

Max downs his drink as he lets his eyes wander over the newcomer.

Watches as he laughs with his friends, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Watches as he gets dragged in the middle of the crowd, attracting attention everywhere he goes.

He’s like a magnet.

Pulling everybody in.

Causing people to turn their heads in his direction with his mere presence.

The local hero.

Ferrari’s golden boy.

Max’s biggest rival.

_Charles._

Max is in a trance, lost in the movements, lost in the bulging of his muscles as he moves.

He licks his lips absentmindedly.

Orders another drink.

Their eyes meet over the dancefloor.

Charles smiles at him, a dimple on his cheek.

It’s brighter than all the lights of the club.

Max nods back.

He doesn’t smile for everyone.

There are way too many people around, anyway.

Charles gets lost in the crowd.

Max sips on his drink.

A hand grabs him by his forearm.

He meets red-coated nails before he meets the golden boy’s face.

“Hi,” Charles says, still smiling.

Max looks him over, doesn’t even try to hide is wandering eyes.

They stop at the sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Hey,” he says back, then adds, “What brings you here?”

If he finds the question stupid, Charles doesn’t show.

He replies, “Partying. You?”

“Alcohol.”

Charles laughs.

Max rolls his eyes, then downs his drink.

His eyes move back to the dancefloor.

It’s boring now that his main point of focus is standing next to him.

“Who are you looking at?” Charles asks.

He’s closer than before.

Max can feel his breath on his face.

“You see that chick over there?” he responds, nodding in a random direction.

Dark hair.

Red dress.

Red lipstick.

Red nails.

Charles hums.

“That your type?”

Max shrugs, looking at him from his peripheral vision.

Charles grabs his arm again, tighter grip.

He’s so close.

Max can feel the expensive perfume overwhelming his senses.

Can feel Charles placing his head on his shoulder.

Nuzzling the crook of his neck.

Max sighs in anticipation.

A soft pair of lips find his neck.

Their movements are slow.

Precise.

There’s wetness on his skin, and he stifles a groan.

Charles chuckles.

“Feels nice, yeah?”

Max nods.

All too soon, the heat is gone.

Charles grabs his hand.

“Come on.”

He tugs him in the direction of the toilets.

Presses him against the door as soon as they’re in.

Heated.

Max feels like he’s burning.

He grips Charles’ hair with his hands tightly.

Someone clears their throat behind them.

Max shoots them a middle finger.

Drags Charles into a cubicle.

They’re still kissing, wet and fast and hard.

Charles hands wander over his body.

He drops to his knees in front of Max.

Looks up at him through his lashes.

Max feels the warmth of his hurried breaths over his bulge.

Tightens his grip on Charles’ hair.

He chuckles.

“No rush.”

“Come on, Charles.”

Another chuckle.

Fingers open the zip of his trousers with precision.

They drop to the ground.

Charles places his mouth over the boxer-covered bulge.

Max feels a shiver cross his whole body.

He closes his eyes.

The mouth on his cock feels like heaven.

Skilled fingers find the edge of his boxers.

Pull them down.

Charles buries his head into Max’s thighs.

Licks a stripe down his cock.

He hums in satisfaction.

Circles his lips around the head.

The warmth and the wetness feel unbearable.

Max drags a finger down Charles’ cheek.

The sounds he’s making with a mouthful of Charles’ cock should be illegal.

“Fuck my mouth.”

Max’s eyes snap open.

Charles is looking up at him again.

Eyes wide.

Pupils blown.

He groans.

Grips the back of his head tighter.

Charles’ jaw goes slack.

Max pushes in.

Slow at first.

Watches Charles’ reaction.

Notes the eyeroll.

Fastens his pace.

Relishes in the fucked-out look on Charles’ face.

In the gagging sounds he makes.

Max doesn’t even try to think where Charles learnt how to do that.

His orgasm hits him hard.

He watches in wonder as Charles swallows up.

Drags him up to his feet again.

Keeps him from falling over.

Places his hands over his erection.

Charles keens.

Max unzips his pants.

Puts his hand on Charles’ cock.

Works him finished with just a few strokes.

A stain forms over the front of his designer pants.

He glares at Max playfully once he catches his breath.

Max fixes himself up quickly.

Splashes his face in the basin.

When he turns around, Charles is nowhere to be seen.


End file.
